A Surprise Is A Gift To All
by ThinksInWords
Summary: In the Amis group "surprise", he just had to draw Eponine. They fight all the time, how would he ever make something that didn't make her want to smack him even more than she already did? - written for the 31 Days of Enjonine on Tumblr


Enjonine Sinterklaas

Summary: In the Amis group "surprise", he just had to draw Eponine. They fight all the time, how would he ever make something that didn't make her want to smack him even more than she already did?

Disclaimer: Not mine. Surprising!

AN: This was written for the 31 Days of Enjonine on Tumblr. Now that everyone's identity is revealed, I am free to tell everyone: this fic is mine!

She almost slapped him on the very day that he drew her name in the annual Amis surprise – pronounced sur-prea-zuh thank you very much. He came home with a frown on his face and a sore shoulder, only to find an e-mail in his inbox that told him that he was lucky enough to have drawn Éponine in this surprise. He curses the automatic thing that picks the names loudly enough to startle his downstairs neighbor, and then wonders how he is ever going to make this work.

How is he ever going to think of a gift to please Her Royal Obstinacy, Éponine?

It is not as if she already has everything – far from it, in fact. She has very few things, and even fewer things of actual monetary value. Still, her list states no big demands, no need for things for herself. It bothers him, because why can't she be selfish for once in her fucking life and actually want something?

All she asks for is new earmuffs for Azelma, new mittens for Gavroche, and wool to knit them all scarves. She does not ask for a new hat for herself, even though hers has holes in it and the stupid red elbow patches on her coat don't match.

But no, she will not let any of them help her.

He could buy her a new coat and a new hat just like the one she always wears now – he could buy her dozens of coats and hats just with the interest on his accounts. Still, she will not accept a goddamn thing from him, just because he happens to have more money than she does. Why would he not do something useful with his parents' bribes? He would rather spend it on making sure she is warm and safe and comfortable than let it rot in his account – because he is not spending any of it on himself. He has a job, and that's enough to pay for his needs. He does not need his father's guilt money, nor does he need anything from his mother and her new husband.

So he has plenty of money to give to someone who needs it – if only she would accept.

Why won't she just accept his help?

With another curse, he sets himself back down into his seat, to stare at the computer screen in deep contemplation. What could he do that would both give her what she wanted and would be something for her personally at the same time? She deserves gifts and praise for the things she has accomplished, but she certainly will not accept any of this from him. She hates him, thinks he's a pretentious and privileged asshole who thinks he's better than she is. She would be wrong about that, though.

He cannot help but fight with her all the time, because she deserves more than she is getting – only her pride is in the way of her actually getting all of the things that she so deserves. Her damn pride that always gets in the way of everything, because friendship might have actually been in the cards for the two of them if she wasn't always so fucking stubborn and prideful. He could never dent the damn wall she had built up.

"Why won't she let me in?" he groans, hands in his messy blond hair.

Now he can plan protests with the best of them, and he has won a couple dozen cases in his short but illustrious career – but that means nothing when he is faced with Éponine Thénardier. His usual wit is gone when he is confronted by her, and all that he is left with is stammering and pleading and shouting.

She makes him so very uncomfortable, yet he wants to be around her.

Ah yes, these feelings of attraction to miss Éponine have not yet gone away, as he was sure that they would, eventually. He still finds himself trying to get the seat next to hers at gatherings, and fighting the sting he feels when he once again sees her looking at Marius for most of the night.

Pontmercy is oblivious as usual, infatuated as he is with the blonde waitress at their coffee shop. He has yet to actually talk to the girl, of course, but it leaves Éponine frowning and upset. She has yet to figure out that she deserves better than that fool.

Not that he would be in any way better for her – she hates him, he knows that.

Even if he manages to find the best gift in the world, that still will not change.

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He pretends that his hands aren't shaking when the packages are revealed. All of the blankets are taken off one by one and he fights not to respond when he sees his failed attempt at arts and crafts. He is a terrible artist, but it is what was required for this night, so he tried to do the best he could with what he had.

It is obvious that his is one of the more shabby looking pieces of the night, but it is supposed to be the effort that counts. He just wonders if Éponine will see it that way.

When he takes a sip to distract himself from his fast-beating heart, the aftertaste of his hot chocolate reveals that Grantaire has already gotten to it. There is something alcoholic in it, and while he would normally reproach his friend for it, he lets it go for this one time. Besides, the warm feelings spreading through his limbs help a lot in calming him down. Maybe the rejection won't be as painful if he is drunk.

On his third cup, it is finally Éponine's turn to start opening her package. He pretends that the only thing he is interested in is the cup in his hands, but when his hands start shaking again, he has to put it down before he spills something.

"What is this?" she eyes the contraption skeptically.

"Wait, is that a family?" Combeferre eyes the piece of crap carefully.

Surely Combeferre would call it art, even though he himself as the creator knows a whole lot better than that. Even his primitive stick figures look ridiculous, but it was the only way he knew of to include the presents and show that he knows the things that Éponine thinks are most important. He made her a little family out of the different size knitting needles he purchased as a part of her present. He gave them all tiny outfits and characteristics showed that the two biggest figures were ladies, and Éponine and Azelma respectively. The Azelma figure was wearing a short skirt, while the Éponine figure wore jeans and a leather jacket. The boys were equally detailed.

It may have come out looking like crap, but he certainly put in the effort.

"It's my family," Éponine finally understands what she is seeing. "That's Gavroche, my brothers, Azelma, and that one with the leather jacket is me."

There is a grin playing at the corners of her mouth when she discovers the gifts attached to the figures. She gently peels off the gifts from her little family and tries to locate his horribly written poem. He is quite the orator, just not that good at bad poetry that is supposed to rhyme – hell, even Jehan thinks that this is beneath him.

She finds the damn thing, undoubtedly seeing the note he added with the apology for his terrible poetry. Once again that hint of a smile plays on her face, and he worries that this smile will disappear entirely when she figures out that it is he who amuses her with his terrible art and his even worse poetry. She will not smile then.

"Dear Eponine," she starts reading after briefly rolling her eyes at the guys.

Of course they would have to cat call and shout, because she is the only single girl in their group – the only girl besides Musichetta – and they just have to mess with her.

"Sinterklaas has a lot to say," she ignores the guys. "And he will not let anything get in his way. His admiration for your strength is strong, but you have been hiding for much too long. When he saw your list and checked it twice, he did not think it was all that nice. All that you asked was for another, a present and gift for sister or brother."

With this, her voice starts getting harsher already, because she undoubtedly is not very happy with this reprimand. Still, he felt like it needed to be said. She needs to be reminded that it is okay to want things for herself, not just for others.

He tries to tune out during the rest of the admittedly terrible poem, just letting the rise and fall of her voice wash over him while he takes a few more sips of his hot chocolate to let that warm him again. He feels his trembling hands slowly start to become steadier and steadier as her voice gets harsher and harsher. He knew this would happen.

"With love from Sinterklaas," Éponine ends her reading.

"Open it up," Grantaire has a particularly evil grin on his face.

The knitting needles have already been pealed off, but the family is sitting on a box that is filled with the rest of her presents. The set of other knitting supplies is pressed against the book of patterns, but the wool and yarn are the things that she would see first when she opens the box. It is everything she needs to make something for her siblings, and also enough to enjoy her knitting more often. He knows that she enjoys that.

"Knitting supplies," Combeferre looks at the beautiful colors of yarn and wool.

There is a beautiful shade of green that will bring out the green and gold in her eyes, and there is the obligatory shade of red for the Christmas decorations. But there are purples and blues and more greens and shades of grey and brown and red. There are enough colors to make the biggest rainbow she could ever think of.

And she is more than angry enough for her cheeks to take on a few colors in the package.

Her olive skin has several red spots, and he is figuring out how she can discover that he is the reason that she is so angry without it ending in his death.

"Who was it?" she looks around, eyes narrowed.

"I drew your name," he just prepares for death and raises his hand. "You can blame me."

The gasp that echoes around the room just makes Éponine flip off the rest of the guys while she waits for him to stand up so she can kill him while they are face to face. He takes a final, defiant sip of his hot chocolate before he gets up, trying to prepare himself for one of their typical fights. He really does not want to do this right now.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" she snipes at him. "I mean, I figured it would be you, because you are the only one who would so highhandedly try to fuck up my entire life just because you don't like the way I live it. I asked for simple things on purpose, and you managed to screw even that up, because you want me to be selfish like you."

Once again, he is getting some excellent proof that she actually hates him. It is just what he needs on a day like this one. He sees her clenched fists and her narrowed eyes and he knows that anything he says at this point will just be asking for a punch in the eye. But he knows that someone has to say it at some point, and it might as well be him, since she already hates him. The others are too scared of her to say anything.

"I just want you to have nice things for yourself," he argues, figuring that he might as well get to the root of his issue with the situation. "I want you to be happy, and not just taking care of others and forgetting about yourself."

He sees the bags under her eyes and her callused hands and her trembling limbs that are getting ever thinner and he cannot help but worry about her. She is breaking apart before his eyes, and he cannot stand to stand by and just watch.

There must be something that he can still do.

"That is not your concern," she raises her hands in anger.

"I am your friend and I am concerned," he tries to not let his infamous temper take hold of him. "I can tell that you are overextending yourself because you do not smile as much anymore. You are not happy, and you like knitting. It relaxes you."

This is saying too much. He has said too much; has revealed too much of his feelings to a crowd of immature idiots and the object of his affection. And while her eyes appear to be softening slightly, the oohs and aahs from the peanut gallery are just making the situation so much more awkward than it needs to be. He is left standing in front of Éponine, waiting for her to rip into him again, but she stays silent.

"You can relax," he tries to convince her of the merits of his gifts again, "and while you do, you can make your siblings their hats and scarves, and you can make some things for yourself while you are at it. You deserve to have nice things for yourself."

With this, she actually starts smiling.

"Thank you, Gabriel," she calls him by his first name then.

He pretends that he is not blushing. There are more oohs and aahs from their friends, but he can't even hear them anymore, because Éponine is moving closer to him and his breath catches. She moves closer and closer until she plants a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Say you're welcome," she teases when she withdraws.

"You're welcome," he mindlessly repeats, staring at her awkwardly.

Éponine is still smiling at him.

"Alright, Enjolras, your turn," Combeferre breaks the silence.

Funny, he doesn't even care what gifts he gets this day.

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A week later, when he finds the homemade burgundy scarf in his mailbox, he cannot help but grin as he feels the soft fabric between his fingers. There are no holes, no errors to show that it was a rushed job. She spent her time on this, and she tried to make it perfect for him. That is all that he needs to know.


End file.
